


Chocolate Chips

by atomicSoundwaves



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, basically just fluff, chocolate chips, happy Jeanmarco day, rated T for Jean's potty mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:11:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1608008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomicSoundwaves/pseuds/atomicSoundwaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Kirschtein really loves his chocolate chips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chocolate Chips

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic for Jeanmarco, as well as for Attack on Titan. It was Jeanmarco Day five minutes ago, but what the hell. Happy Jeanmarco Day, you guys! I hope you enjoy reading!

Jean always loved chocolate chips.

Ever since he was a child, his mother would make him chocolate chip cookies, which he would in turn devour in less than a day. As he slowly began to ascend into adulthood, Jean had favored chocolate chip over the wide variety of flavors there were for a vast selection of food. To him, it slowly became instinct to always buy chocolate chip desserts.

Today must have been Jean's lucky day.

He woke up on that gorgeous Saturday morning, only to realize that he had yet to go grocery shopping. Well, not really. He just recently ran out of chocolate chip cookies and ice cream.

Again.

He figured he might as well buy the essentials while he was at it -like eggs, milk, actual sustenance- to last him another two weeks or so. He got ready and left his apartment.

Walking down the street was much smarter than driving to the store, seeing as it was only a few minutes away. Upon entering the store, Jean noticed one particular person that aggravated him to no end; a person that could easily be mistaken for a fucking demon in his eyes. There is no avoiding him when Jean comes here, because the fucker is a cashier. 

"Hey, horseface," he greeted nonchalantly. Said "horseface" was trying to convince himself that murdering someone in a supermarket is not the wisest choice. 

Choosing instead to ignore the asshole, Jean sets out on his journey to find the cookies. Those gifts sent from heaven are always the first on his list, no matter what is closer to him. Walking down the familiar aisle, the amber-eyed male had set his eyes on one particular thing that was practically right in front of him.

Well, thing is not the correct word. Person is more exact. Fucking hottie is spot on. His black hair is parted in the middle and looks so. Damn. Soft. His shoulders are so broad and nice, and his skin is creamy and beautiful. But what really makes Jean's brain scream "Jesus Christ, kiss him already!" are those freckles. Those were the only things that had grabbed his attention. Son of a bitch, now he wants to do more than just kiss him. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry, am I in your way?"

Jean blinks. How long was he staring at him? "O-oh no, I was just," he stuttered, "um... looking for chocolate chip hotties- COOKIES. Chocolate chip c-cookies. Sorry." Jean blushed and looked away.

"That was so stupid, he's definitely going to think I'm a creep," he had thought. He heard a giggle and quickly looked up again, surprise written all over the shorter man's face. "It's alright," the other man smiled. "Oh, here." He proceeded to hand Jean a box of chocolate chip cookies. "I was kind of in front of those, so I'm sorry." 

"No problem," you mumbled. A smile slowly made it's way onto the amber-eyed male's face. The other man stuck his hand out. "Marco Bodt," he greeted. 

"He shakes hands with people," Jean thought, "that is so classy."

"Jean Kirschtein," he replied, shaking the taller man's hand. However, there was only one thing that was currently going through his mind. "You're touching him, you're actually touching him!" And it was then that Jean decided to stop thinking altogether before he says something he knows he'll regret. 

"It's great to meet you, Jean," he grinned. Yeah, Jean really likes his smile. "Well, I'd better finish shopping. I'll leave you to it then, bye!" Jean just stood there for a few seconds before his mind decided to do something utterly ridiculous. 

"H-hey, Marco!" You called. The raven-haired male turned around, and God was he cute. "Yes, Jean?" He smiled nervously. Wow, okay, now he's just far too cute. Jean managed to find his courage once he saw that smile. "Do you want to um, maybe grab some coffee later?" Marco's eyes widened and he blushed. Jean really thought he screwed up this time, until he saw that smile again. 

"I'd love to," was his reply.

\--

After deciding where and when to meet, Jean spent the rest of the time looking for outfits, as well as regretting his choice of words while talking to Marco. Seriously, chocolate chip hottie? It fit, but damn was it stupid. The amber-eyed male was seriously hoping that his new acquaintance had completely disregarded the comment.

"Jean, seriously, you've been glaring daggers at that shirt for a good five minutes. If you hate it so much, just burn it and put it out of its misery," stated Armin, Jean's roommate. The blonde boy always had a very good sense of fashion, as well as a kind and honest heart, so Jean naturally trusted him when it came to situations like these.

"It's not the shirt, Armin. It's my stupid mouth that I'm mad at," Jean murmured. Looking at Armin, he noticed a touch of sincerity on the shorter male's face. "What did you say to him?" He asked. "You might be overreacting, Jean. I'm sure it's nothing." 

"Armin, I called him a chocolate chip hottie for God's sake. Even if it wasn't directed at him, I still said it and it was embarrassing as hell." 

Armin snorted. He was having a very hard time suppressing his laughter, that much was noticeable. Sighing, Jean placed the shirt he was holding on the bed. "You can laugh, you know. I won't be mad."

"No, that's mean. I won't laugh," he giggled. Even then, Armin couldn't hold it back. In just a few short seconds, the blonde boy bursted out laughing. Somehow, he had succeeded in laughing so hard he cried. "I'm sorry, Jean," he had kept saying. But still, Jean didn't get mad. He actually laughed along with Armin, just not as hard. Once Armin had caught his breath, he decided to speak up. The question caught the traller man off guard. "Jean, when is your date?" 

Looking at his digital alarm clock, it had read 6:45. "Shit," he said, "Armin it's at seven! Help me pick something to wear and stop lounging around!" Armin rolled his eyes and chuckled at how dramatic his friend can be. "Well it is your date, so you can't depend on me to make sure you get there on time. Besides, are you sure you two aren't just hanging out?" Jean stared at Armin blankly. Typical. He hadn't thought about that. Now Jean had to worry about finding something to wear that didn't scream "I'm desperate, go out with me!" 

In the end, Jean went with a simple t-shirt and jeans, as well as a jacket because it was cold as fuck outside. He left with a good seven minutes, giving him enough time to cheese it to the coffee shop. Speed walking to Maria's Coffee, he was glad to finally see the front doors to the small shop. He walked in and immediately spotted Marco sitting at a table by himself. He looks up and smiled, a bit surprised, at Jean.

At that moment, Jean was actually pretty sure that Marco's smile was going to be the death of him.

\--

"He calls you horseface? Well that's not very nice at all!" Marco giggled. After both men had ordered their coffees, they decided to take a stroll around town. They walked at a leisurely pace, sharing stories and telling jokes as if they'd been friends their entire lives. "Yes," Jean replied, "ever since day one, that asshole was always out to get me, I just knew it. I felt it in my mane." Jean had purposely made the joke to make Marco laugh. Not even a second later the freckled man was practically wheezing. It was a beautiful sight, Jean had to admit, but it was very dorky at the same time. Add those two together and you get downright adorable. 

After a couple of minutes filled with tears and laughter, silence fell upon the two. It was comfortable, but neither would've minded if it were to be broken. Marco decided to speak up first. 

"So," he started, "chocolate chip hottie, huh?" 

Jean blushed. He didn't think that would actually come back to bite him in the ass, but there it was, metaphorically sinking it's teeth into the shorter man's bottom. Jean kept walking, deciding to not answer for a bit. 

"Do you talk to all of your cookies like that?" Marco teased. Jean laughed at that and finally felt a bit of courage in him. "Only the most attractive cookies," he had said. The only way to describe Marco's face was with one word: stunned. His face was as red as a tomato. Nevertheless, he still smiled and giggled. "Are we still talking about cookies, Jean?" He asked. The only thing the other man could do was stare at Marco. It sounded cheesy, but just by looking into the taller man's eyes, one could get lost in their beauty. His face was perfect; dusted with an assortment of freckles, which in turn were covered in what was now a light blush. And his hair, oh how Jean longed to tangle his fingers in the silky strands. 

He was perfect in Jean's eyes, no less. The latter reluctantly looked away from the taller man. They were both walking through the park, which had a small amount of light in its entirety. It was dark out, so the stars were as visible as they could be in a city like this. "Hey Marco," he began, "wanna hear a story?" 

Marco grinned, his perfect smile putting the stars to shame. "Of course."

Jean sat down on a bench, one barely near any light. It was a full moon that night, making Jean feel like that was the only light he needed. Marco followed in tow, sitting down gently beside the other man. "When I was a kid," Jean commenced, "I was always made fun of. Being called a "Momma's boy" or "weirdo", along with many other names. I'd often get into fights at school because of that, but my mom never really got mad at me. Instead, she'd sit me down on the couch, and sing to me while she bandaged me up. 

"It always calmed me down, but deep down inside she knew I was still upset. She knew that I had felt like an outcast for being myself, that no one wanted to be my friend. So she'd get up and tell me to stay on the couch. Twenty minutes later she'd come back with a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies, all for me. She'd kiss my cheek and tell me how much she loved me. That no matter what those kids said about me, I was still her son and she was still my mom. 

"She'd say that it was us against the world. Then I'd cry while she hugged me and the cookies kind of stayed there, forgotten for a while. I'd stop crying and my mom would smack my arm playfully, telling me to eat my cookies. Ever since then, chocolate chip was always my favorite flavor for everything. I'd get teased for it, but it's not like I cared about what they said anymore. 

"This morning when I saw you standing there, I noticed your freckles. It was the first thing I noticed about you, which was a bit silly on my part. They suited you so well, like a puzzle piece. They were... cute." At that moment, Marco blushed. Jean giggled silently before continuing. "You reminded me of a giant chocolate chip cookie, and I couldn't help but like you. Even at that moment, before we met, you made me feel happy inside, like you fit into my life. Just like a puzzle piece." 

Marco was silent for a moment before he spoke up. "Jean, I don't know what to say." Jean smiled. Marco was so honest. He really liked that about him. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," he murmured. "I won't be mad." And it was true. Even if his feelings were one-sided, even if Marco didn't like him back, he was okay with that. Because as long as Marco was a part of his life, he realized that he could be happy. 

Just then, something unexpected happened.

Marco grabbed Jean's face gently, and whispered, "Then I won't speak. I'll show you."

That was the night that Marco kissed Jean for the first time.

That was the day Jean found true happiness. 

Ever since then, the two have been inseparable. They went everywhere together, they've done many things as well. 

Jean's favorite thing about their relationship isn't the fact that it's been almost ten years since that day, nor that they've been married for four of those years. It wasn't the sex or the jokes, nor their cat (especially not that damn cat, Jean thought).

No, Jean's favorite thing was the nicknames they'd given each other. While Jean loved it when Marco would call him sweetheart or when he could hear Marco shouting "Love, could you come here for a moment?" From upstairs, he loved the nickname he had given Marco the most. When they would cuddle up at night, Jean found out that Marco loved hearing those five little words before going to sleep. And every night Jean would whisper them in his ear before kissing him goodnight.

"I love you, chocolate chip."

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I have a tumblr that I hardly ever use, but I'm going to give it to you guys anyways. Just in case. It's la-lagartija-con-patas, so feel free to do whatever with it I guess.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading this, I appreciate every kudo, comment, and bookmark that I get. I hope you loved reading it as much as I loved writing it!


End file.
